


And In Green Pastures I Will Rest

by JayLee88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Blood and Violence, F/M, M/M, Major Character Injury, Post-Canon, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:02:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayLee88/pseuds/JayLee88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, Dean was not surprised that this was the way they would leave the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And In Green Pastures I Will Rest

**Author's Note:**

> So a while ago a friend and I were discussing possible SPN endings and I pitched mine. She cried and threatened to kill me, so I obviously had to write it as a fic. So here it is!  
> **1/10/16- added a few more lines**

It had all happened so suddenly.

 

The deafening sound of thunder rolled across the field, expanding and amplifying as the seconds passed. No, not seconds. Fractions of it. Time had slowed down, an elongating tunnel that seemed to stretch as long and infinite as the universe itself.

 

Then all at once, the universe contracted and the force of it knocked Dean into the waiting, hard ground.

 

Somehow, Dean was not surprised that this was the way they would leave the world.

 

Their life had begun with fire; after all, it had taken their mother from them. They had been reborn by it that night. It had both created and destroyed their lives, leaving a perpetual brand that accompanied them every moment of their existence.

 

So it wasn’t at all surprising that fire would also take their lives away. It was rather poetical in some twisted way. Except this time the world stayed the same. There was no stench of burning flesh, no engulfing sea of flames. No; this time, the fire had been but just a spark inside the barrel of a gun.

 

* * *

 

The world had gone dark when the universe had imploded.

 

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

 

He could still hear the thundering crack of the gunshot, echoing in the numb walls of his mind. It had become a part of him, if not all of him. So much time had passed that Dean could no longer remember how it, or he, had come to be.

 

An eternity elapsed.

 

Gradually, the ringing on his mind started to fade, and as it left him Dean existed again. He was aware of himself once again, of his body, although it felt inexplicably and unnaturally heavy. Gathering up his remaining strength, he slowly opened his eyes and for a strange moment, he wondered why everything was blue.

 

Then, he felt it. Warm and wet and wrong. Spreading across his chest, his center, all the way down to his very core.

 

Memory came back to him, hitting him like a freight train as he felt his blood run cold.

 

_Sam. Sammy._

 

Gasping, Dean took breath to call out for his brother. His chest heaved and a wet cough made its way out of his throat instead, wincing as blood splattered his parted lips, a few drops running down his cheek to soak in the ground below him. He felt his throat steadily fill with it as he struggled to get air into his lungs, only managing to taste and breathe his own blood.

 

The irony failed to escape Dean; what once gave him life was now slowly extinguishing it. A mortal crimson wave that would carry him from this world to the next.

 

 _Sam_. He had to see Sam.

 

Dean turned his head, movement becoming more strenuous by the second, but he had to look at his brother one last time. _He had to be there for him, for his little brother, he wouldn’t let him die alone-_

 

He felt his heart stop as his eyes focused on the figure a few feet away.

 

_Oh God, no._

Sammy was gone. Behind remained his lifeless body, his once bright and kind eyes now inanimately reflecting the clouds and sky above.

 

A sob escaped from Dean, a tear rolling down his face. He hadn’t been there when Sam had needed him most, had died alone. The grass was coarse against his fingertips as he futilely tried to reach for him, his hand too heavy as numbness started to take hold of his body.

 

Defeat and tiredness washed over him, a sign of the imminent end. His breathing had turned ragged as his lungs kept filling with his lifeblood, a macabre fanfare announcing that death was only a few moments away.

 

 

With a last surge of strength and determination, he tears his eyes from his brother’s corpse and turns his head heavenwards, determined to meet death face to face. Dean felt no fear, only a temporary, yet profound loneliness. His eyes reveled in the majestic beauty of the sky. Cirrus clouds decorated the firmament, expert brushstrokes that Dean was certain that if he could reach out and touch, they would feel as soft as feathers. Like angel wings.

 

Distantly, he could hear the song of birds. It was mournful, the notes of their requiem enveloping him, filling him. There was nothing but their song and the endless blue of the sky.

 

And peace. There was finally peace.

 

It was a beautiful day to die.

 

He was ready to let it all go when he felt it. Not the end, at least not yet. He could still feel it looming over the horizon like a storm. No, this was warm and firm. Alive. Tender. Gently cradling his hand.

 

A small smile spread across his face as fingers laced with his own.

 

He would recognize that hand anywhere. After all, that hand had given him life. Had accompanied him all these arduous years, had been the cause for both joy and sorrow in his life. That hand had supported him, consoled him, carried him when his strength had faltered. It was a hand much like his; covered in the scars of a destiny they fought against, carrying the heavy burden of regret and loss.

 

And now, he had come to him. Like he always did. No matter the ways the universe found to keep them apart, they always found each other in the end. 

 

And he finally let go.

 

He let go of all the pain and the misery that had overshadowed his life. He let go of the betrayal and all the blood that had followed him for endless years.

 

As all the sadness of the world fell from his weary shoulders, he began to soar.

 

Death gave him wings. Death was light, it was free. Warm and bright as the rays of the sun, steady as the shore, embracing like a mother. Death was endless. Death was falling and flying.

 

Death was blue.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll post the final chapter soon.
> 
> Happy ending I promise.


End file.
